The Forgotten Zodiac

The older healer scurried forward from her place in the room just over, pulling her hair back into a tight bun. "Goodness," she said, hurrying forward and bending down to pull Jag's head into her lap. "Young man, I ought to punish you somehow for this. Honestly." She looked up at Seria. "Ran the entire way here, you said?"

Seria nodded once.

Namanai promptly smacked Jag lightly on his beak, making him chirp wearily in protest. "Shame on you," she said sternly. "You've gone and worried your wife. Gryphons..." She healed his damaged paws, then stroked his crest back and said "I admire your love for your wife, however. Not many men in this world would push themselves so far to cross the distance you did in one day. And carrying someone, no less."

All he could do was sigh wearily, a smile tugging up the edge of his beak when he looked up at Lily.

Once NamAnai finished, she stood up and said "We'll be beginning your labor soon, Lily." Seria came forward and spoke to her, then the healer nodded and said "Alright. Lily, I hear that it was agreed on that mistress Seria would be dealing with your delivery? I have no problems with that, she's a very capable healer."

Seria beamed happily.

Jagat wheezed and slowly stood up, taking human form and trying to look not as tired as he felt. He was off-balance without the weight of his wings, but he managed to slip close to Lily and wrap his arms around her, kissing her forehead and lips in turn. "Lily, my love..." he whispered, his voice low. "Oh, I love you."

"Jag..." Lily trembled, holding onto his arm with trembling fingers. "I'm scared. I'm so glad you're here, and I wouldn't be able to do this without you here, b-but...I'm still...so scared..." She moved her hands up to each side of his face. "I know yo-you're tired, but...I need you to be strong. For me, okay? B-because if you can't be strong..." She dropped her hands and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I-I think I'll die..." She whimpered.

Obelisk stood at this point, deciding that there was nothing for him to do here. For that matter, his negative influence could very well kill both Lily and the child if he remained present during her labor and the birth. So he turned to the door, still not sure if he should feel guilty or apologize for all ths.

Jag sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing and holding her close. "I'll be strong for both of us," he murmured. "I can rest with you once our son is born. It's okay." He kissed her gently, ignoring Obelisk. "You won't die. I won't let you," he said, putting her head to his shoulder and touching his chin to the top of her ginger head. "Shh..." He looked up as Namanai entered again, this time holding a small needle.

"This medicine will jumpstart your labor," she said. "Don't worry, it's perfectly safe. All of the Divine healers have looked it over. We haven't missed a thing. Are you ready to start?"

Lily trembled even worse, her arms moving around her swollen belly. However, in spite of her obvious fear, she nodded slowly. She moved her hand into Jag's, squeezing a little while she held her other arm out for the needle. "Okay...I-I'm ready. Please begin." She said, her voice shaking worse than her hands. It was certainly true; she was terrified of this. If something, anything went wrong, Lily would never forgive herself.

((Also, Seria probably has to do a c-section. The baby isn't going to come out head-first, since it's an entire month early. Just so you know.))

((Okay.))

Namanai found the right spot on Lily's arm, then inserted the needle and put the medicine into the girl's body. "There you go," she said, healing the spot leftover. "You should feel something in a few minutes. Seria, keep me posted."

The half-cat healer nodded, then turned to Lily as Namanai headed out. "Alright, Lily, you lay back and relax, okay?" she said gently, holding Lily's hand as she and Jagat helped her lay down. "We'll both be here."

Jag laid partially down with her, nuzzling her gently. "It's okay, love," he murmured. "Tell us when you feel something."

Lily laid there in silence for a little while. Several minutes passed before she said anything. Several long, tense minutes, and then she tensed up, her free hand moving to her stomach. "C-contraction," She uttered, squeezing Jag's hand tightly. She relaxed again after a minute or two, but eventually had another. They started going for longer periods of time, and shorter breaks between, signaling that labor was starting.

Jag knitted his fingers into her hands, murmuring that he loved her and that she would be okay. The time passed slowly for those involved. About nine hours later, though, Jag was holding a newborn baby boy in his arms, staring transfixed at the tiny tufts of ginger hair on the baby's head, along with the little tail laying limply around a perfect, miniature pair of ginger wings. A baby gryphon, sleeping quietly in his father's arms. "Oh, love..." Jag whispered to Lily, who Seria was busy sewing up. "He's perfect."

Normally, the birth would've been a full twelve hours, but a complication had arisen. The baby wasn't coming down head-first, so Seria had been forced to do a c-section in order to get the baby out. Both mother and child were fine, thanks to Seria's quick and skilled work.

"I'm glad..." Lily said, simply exhausted. The pain of the labor had caused her to arch her back several times, which hurt a lot. Lily never realized how much damage had really been done to her back. It was long since healed, of course, which left nothing for the healers to do for it. Regardless, Lily was alive and looking happier than ever.

Regardless, a healer hovered around Jag; the child was premature. Without proper care, it could very well die still. There were a number of promising things, though; the boy was breathing easily and it had a healthy skin pallor already. The only thing to worry about would be getting proper nutrition to the child.

Seria worked diligently on Lily, healing her from the inside up. She glanced over at Jag, watching him as he just held his new baby boy, stroking his ginger head and running the tips of his fingers over the soft, fluffy, tiny wings. He was a father now, with a son to protect and nurture and teach. He sat down next to Lily on the bed, handing the baby to her. "There...there..." he murmured, watching through his sky-blue eyes. "What will we name him, love?"

((Also, I think you should play the baby. I'll play Tasia's once it's born.))

Lily held the baby close, pressing her cheek gently against his delicate forehead. "Let's name him after your father. Cinnoa. It's a handsome name for a handsome boy." She murmured, tears running down her cheeks as she looked up at Jag. "We're...we're a ral family now, aren't we?" She whispered. Family. It wasn't as though she doubted the love between her and Jag, but one thing she always strove for was family. She didn't know what it was, but she was pretty sure that this was it.

((Okay, but I'll play it later on, when it has the mental capabilities to do things. xD))

((Deal. xD))

"Yeah..." Jag said quietly, gently stroking Cinnoa's head. "We are." He leaned down and kissed her gently, then looked up when Seria cleared her throat and headed towards the door. "I'll leave you to take care of your son," she said, smiling, then made her way out. A different thought went through her head, however, when she thought about the perfect little son Jag and Lily had just had. She wondered if someday she and Cynyr would have time to be more than fiance and fiancee, and actually get married and do more than kiss and hug. She did want children, after all, and she was happy having Cynyr as her eventual-mate.

But she was worried that there would never be time for them to truly be together.

((-imagines the next storyline starting with Seria/Cynyr's child being kidnapped, which takes them away from Werr and Welk, who are called to help stop the war that Obelisk is creating. In which, of course, Obelisk being the influence that took Cynyr's baby and possibly killed it in order to get Cynyr mad-

Don't give me terrible ideas. xDD

Also, I've decided that it makes more sense if Remor gets his old body back, but the Artifacts only highten his powers, and their hold over him..))

"Seria," Lily's voice stopped the half-cat before she could leave. The human looked at the healer, tears still in her eyes. "Thank you," She said softly, meaning every syllable. If not for Seria and Naminai, Lily knew that she wouldn't have survived to see her baby boy. To see her family.

"Werr? And his noble knight," The advisors of Storaph were gathered already, eying the new arrivals skeptically. "And what do we owe this visit from the throne of Alastor, hmm?"

"I think you know why," Werr said quietly. "Asmodius is dead, and so is his heir. That leaves complications, as no known relatives of Asmodius' are living."

"You know of this how, exactly?"

"Because I fought his attacker. Not in time to save him, however..."

"Clearly not. So..." The head avisor leaned back in his chair. "Why do you choose now to show up? We were minutes away from deciding on a canidate."

"I'm here," Werr said firmly, sitting in the chair meant for the king. It wasn't pride or haughty taunting; it was really just the only free seat. "To ensure that you don't crown a tyrant. Or, skies forbid, a puppet."

"And why, do tell," Said another, older advisor. "Should we listen to you? You're nothing but a child."

"Yes," Another agreed. "For that matter, there have been scattered sightings of you and your motley crew all over since the dragons attacked Alastor. Your own people are distressed and disturbed because their king either does not care to begin repairing the damage done, or he's had too many sweet rolls and doesn't have the attention span for them." The advisor sneered, and the others murmured their agreement. Clearly, they didn't want Werr here at all. That was obvious.

((Also, this scene came to mind, in regards to the next book:

"World domination is far too cliche, you see." Obelisk said, yawning a bit before continuing. "It's all been done before; some rebellion strikes up, and my attempts to subdue them are cut off and I would be swiftly destroyed -- so to speak, at any rate; it's still impossible to kill me. World destruction, however, is much easier to obtain. The fine balance of peace is all too easily toppled." He flicked his finger out, sending the last chess piece - the white king - flying off the board. "One empire in danger of a civil war calls for the help of the throne of another kingdom, which inadvertently calls forth a war to the unattended kingdom left behind. Whoever wins will be weakened from battle; which is high time for the inhabitants of a savage land far south to march forth and slay whomever remains. They, of course, will fall due to lack of knowledge of the land, and perhaps a few angered dragons who find multiple eggs broken around these savages' camps.

"The dragons themselves will find an unusual problem over the years; they will find that their youngest are dying due to mysterious diseases that force them to attack their kin, then die when there is no one else to kill. This will occur for each and every dragon, up until there remains only Naybrin. And then I'll kill him myself; I'm not a sentimental person, I just thought it would be fun to make him suffer the loss of a kingdom, too. And with that said and done, there will be nothing but uncultured swine to attend to, which can be dipsosed of with a few fights over the barren lands, and then perhaps a bit of starvation over a very, very long winter.

"And after all that...there will be nothing left. Naturally, I would destroy the gate to Amnairus and Tartarus in the early stages to prevent their meddling. So I would be alone. No humans, no half-cats, no Dragonians, nothing; heck, the long winters would kill off all the animals, too. The oceans themselves will freeze over and kill things beneath the waves. It'll just be me and the dead world. No hope for recivilization, no one else to kill. No plants, no animals. Constant storms and droughts, perhaps. Maybe...maybe then, the gods will see what I've done to their land and have the mercy to smite me. If they exist at all. And if not, which is likely, I'll wait. Whether it's to strike down any other emergence of humans, or to wait for the end of the universe as it is. I'll just wait.

"Because you see, Werr, I don't care about you anymore. Killing you is almost as difficult as killing myself. You'll die eventually, don't worry. But I'm not doing this to make you suffer. Nor do I believe I'll die because of it. I'm doing it because it is everything that Cicilia will hate. As long as I live, so does she, trapped within this cage of a body, exactly like me. She betrayed me, and this is her repayment. There's nothing she can do; she's as useless as you are. And now that I've told you all this...just try and stop me." He stood, his eyes boring into his visitors with a cruel, amused light. "It'll be the death of you."))

Wham.

Cynyr slammed his hands down on the table angrily, having little patience for their pompus talk. "For your information," he said, obviously trying hard to control his temper. "the king of the dragons himself is going to repair much of the damage he caused. And Asmodius himself saw true potential in Werr, just like I do. He's a good king, and if he had stayed where he was at that castle, he would've died with all the rest of the guards and they would've been kingless. Now it's your freaking duty to help find your new king, and you think you would want someone with knowledge of how to be a king helping you. You want to find a good, strong king, like Asmodius was, don't you?"

A few of the advisors nodded slowly.

"Then let us help you," the panther said, a bit more gently. Though it wasn't much. "And if you don't believe us, then I could always ask a great friend of ours on his opinion of who should be king here. I warn you, however; to meet him, you'll have to go outside."

And he smiled.

((By the way, the last tidbit explains everything of mine in the next book. So be prepared to add things. xD))

Werr blinked at Cynyr, wondering what his knight was up to. He hadn't seen Naybrin or Zephyr; Zephyr was still off with his son, as far as Werr knew. Naybrin...was kind of hard to miss.

"Fine, let's see this friend of yours, then!" The elder of the lot stood, frowning unhappily. Werr had already put together that this particular member of the council, as well as the one who spoke first, had a different agenda. From the way they tensed up at his words, Werr was pretty certain that they had wanted a king who would lean to their whims and control, not one with a backbone who knew how to run a kingdom.

No matter. Werr stood as well. "I hope you know what you're doing," He murmured to his knight, though he smiled a bit to show that he wasn't doubting his friend.

"I do," Cynyr said confidantly, flicking his tail from side to side. He led them outside, into the courtyard, then moved forward and stood alone. He faced the council, his eye flashing with a light that Werr knew was the light of a troublemaker who longed to see people cower back in fear. He reached into his cloak and produced a small flute, holding it where they could see it. If they saw it closer, they would realize that it was made out of a small dragon bone, and carved delicately with spirals and curls.

Cynyr carefully put it to his lips and proceeded to release an ear-piercing blast of sound, high like a whistle.

Nothing happened.

Before anyone could say anything, however, Cynyr silenced them with an up-raised hand. He pointed wordlessly to the sky, still smiling away.

Far off in the clouds, the distant bugle of a dragon was heard. A really, really big dragon.

Werr sighed, holding back a grin. He didn't know where Cynyr had gotten the flute, but it was certainly doing the job. The council seemed to shrink back in this new turn of events; of course, they hadn't believed Cynyr and Werr. A king and his knight barge into the castle and claim to be helping? Honestly, who would believe that? But this was getting to be quite serious, quite serious indeed. And very hard to ignore, that was for certain.

The beating of huge wings was suddenly heard, distant at first, but growing with each passing second. Far up in the clouds, the puffy white vapors suddenly tore apart as a huge dragon plunged out, glowing with a bright green-blue color. He landed with a powerful, heavy thud, releasing a huge bellow that shook the ground, the people, and nearly the entire castle.

Naybrin, heavily cloaked in Cynyr's wind powers, stared down at the tiny people below him. He grinned, showing off sharp white teeth, then forced his way into their minds, his deep, thunderous voice booming out like a great storm.

"I am Naybrin, the great king and the first dragon, the one and the last. I am the master of all wind and sky and air, and am holder of the Great Fire. I have killed thousands of humans within my jaws. I have flown over and across the skies of your land before the Gods ever gave thought to you. I was old when I was first born. I have witnessed all your world has to offer and more, and have seen more than my fair share of heartaches and joys. Who here would deny me my rule of the sky? Who here would dare speak against me, the FIRST KING?"

He roared loudly, emphisizing his point, then sat back, smiling when he saw that during the entire process, Cynyr hasn't so much as budged.

Werr hadn't moved much either, though he had moved back to stand next to Naybrin's huge claws. One of his few dear friends. It was good to see him again. When there was a long period of silence, Werr smiled a bit. "Do you believe us now?" He questioned quietly, his voice almost lost under the rumble of Naybrin's breathing alone.

There were dumbfounded nods from the advisors. Werr looked up at Naybrin, his smile growing. "Thank you, friend. How is the reconstruction coming along? I'm sorry for going back on my word; I said I would be there with you, but I don't think that's possible right now..."

((...weeeee forgot Nate. Or rather I forgot.))